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Memories of my South Coast 22
As a child, I learned to sail on a small, seven-foot dinghy which belonged to a neighbor. As the teenage years rolled along, the sailing bug had bit me, and I dreamt of owning my own sailboat. I worked weekends at a local McDonald’s restaurant, saving as much money as possible. I would go after work and walk through local marinas searching for the perfect used sailboat.
I worked the closing shift, so every work night I grabbed the morning newspaper (which was usually delivered by 2:00 a.m.) to check the classified adds. In the spring of 1985, my prayers were answered; I spotted an add for a "22-foot sailboat, motor, and sails for $1500.00 firm" printed under the "motor boat" section. I could hardly wait for the morning sun to arrive so that I could call the listed telephone number. My dreams were finally coming to life.
That morning, my father and I hurried to the address where the sailboat was docked. As I walked into the backyard, I spotted my long-awaited dreamboat -- a South Coast 22. She was filthy! The cabin was all torn-up, and an overwhelming mildew smell greeted you as you entered into the cabin. Her bottom was covered with barnacles. My father, a licensed ship’s Master, felt that the sailboat’s hull was still structurally sound. Without hesitation, I paid the owner his asking price and took possession. The joy I felt at that moment would never fade away in the years to follow.
Restoring the sailboat was not an easy task on my limited budget. I bought new denim material to cover all of the cushions. With the aid of friends (under the promise that I would take them sailing), the entire boat was stripped and scrubbed clean. I bought some second-hand parts and replaced the corresponding broken parts. I replaced the mainsheet lines. Thereafter, I replaced the seat planks to the table and gave the interior two fresh coats of paint. After several weeks of hard work, my sailboat started to look like an elegant lady. I named her Cum Laude (With Honor); unfortunately, for most people, a different meaning of the Latin phrase came to mind, so after a few laughs, I elected not to print the name.
From the day I bought my sailboat, I sailed Lake Pontchartrain, Louisiana, almost every weekend. While I attended College and Law School, my sailboat was a great way to relieve stress, to capture happiness, and to gain priceless memories. I sailed mostly during the daylight hours, but I had numerous night cruises (especially during the summer). I also took countless overnight trips, and the cabin never felt cramped. During the school months, I used the cabin’s table as my "quiet study" area.
One of my most memorable overnight trips took place in May 1991. My best friend, Don Hemperley, and I had just finished the spring semester, and we wanted to celebrate. We decided to sail my sailboat from my home in Slidell, Louisiana, to Cat Island (one of the barrier islands off of the Mississippi gulf coast). We packed the sailboat with provisions (mostly cheap beer) and the necessary gear. We went to bed early that night in order to get an early start.
Morning came quickly. We headed down to the sailboat and finished some last-minute tasks. By 6:00 a.m., I started the six-horse power outboard and headed out to Lake Pontchartrain. By 10:00 a.m., the weather was pleasant, and the wind picked up as we left Lake Pontchartrain and entered into the open waters of the Mississippi Sound. We enjoyed a simple breakfast and lunch while we navigated to our final destination somewhere beyond our horizon. As the afternoon rolled by, the excitement picked up even though we were cruising along slowly at approximately three knots . We were listening to music, and we were enjoying a few cold beers. A school of dolphins danced along the bow. In the distance I noticed a black speck coming at us at a high rate of speed just above the water-line. Suddenly, the black speck, a US Navy fighter jet, was upon us and zoomed past us. The pilot dipped his wings as if he was waiving to us. Both of us were amazed by the power and noise from our unexpected visitor.
By 4:00 p.m., I spotted Cat Island in the distance. We approached cautiously, because there are several shallow shoals around the island. I raised the keel halfway to avoid hitting any obstructions. By 7:00 p.m., we slipped into Smuggler’s Cove (the best and safest anchorage area on the island), which is located on the very southern tip of the island. We joined three other yachts in the cove. That night, we barbequed hamburgers and celebrated the moment with more cans of beer. I have no idea what time we fell asleep, but I do remember that the next morning was a rough one.
Breakfast was quick in the morning. Thereafter, we made it to the sandy shore and headed off to explore. Cat Island is shaped like a "T" laying on its side. We walked along the sandy beach all the way to the northernmost point. Along the way, we enjoyed watching the dolphins swimming along the coast. On the way back , we tried to explore the island’s middle portion, which stretches out toward the West and is forested. However, the insect population made it difficult to continue, so we returned to the sailboat and fished. By late afternoon, we left Cat Island and headed into a marina located approximately ten miles to the North in Pass Christian, Mississippi.
My friend Don got picked up by his family and headed back to New Orleans for his graduation. I spent the night at the marina. The next morning, I set out for my solo return trip back to Slidell, LA. I encountered engine trouble immediately upon leaving the Marina. So, I relied strictly on sail power to bring me home. Despite a thunderstorm squall, a few hours of calm wind, and a Mosquito attack at night fall, I returned home at 10:00 p.m.
I have fond memories of the trip and enjoy retelling the story to friends. Unfortunately, I now live in Las Vegas, Nevada, and my sailing days are limited but not dead. My father bought the sailboat from me, and he allows me to sail my South Coast 22 when I go home for visits. Otherwise, I sail on Lake Mead, Nevada, or in San Diego, California. I do plan some day to have a trailer built and haul the sailboat out here -- that is if I can convince my wife that it is a necessary family expense.
Frank Johan Coumou
Las Vegas, NV